We Like To Party
by SevenOverThree
Summary: Johnny, while at a nightclub and looking for victims, accidentally orders an alcoholic drink. Devi, seeking to escape Tenna, doesn't expect to see a certain someone at a nightclub. And Johnny can't hold his liquor at all...


**Disclaimer:** I am not Lord Vasquez

**Authors notes:** This is _supposed _to be a oneshot. For that matter, it was also supposed to be a _short_ oneshot. Just a short little humorous thing where Johnny is at a club, gets his drink mixed up with some other guys, and winds up wasted. Then Devi enters the club, only to find Johnny _commanding_ the dance floor. THE END.

Yet, somehow, while writing it, it turned into some kind of Serious Devi/Johnny fanfic. What the _hell_?

Anyway, I was listening to 'We Like To Party', by The Vengaboys, when my mind delivered to me the image of Johnny dancing happily, and I figured the only way to get him doing that would be to get him drunk. The fic's original mental draft was this short, humorous little oneshot, but I guess my mind hates writing funny things and decided to inject some seriousness between Drunk!Johnny and Devi.  
Dunno if this'll get more chapters, but if it does, it'll only be one chapter, and only to finish it more properly.

* * *

Johnny hated clubs. He _really_ did. In fact, the only reason he'd come into _this_ one was because he needed new victims – the Wall would need blood soon, and all his victims had died on him. Very rude of them.

He didn't want to make another mistake like he'd done with that Edgar fellow; grabbing a random person and discovering they didn't deserve his treatment after all, but not having the time to go out and find somebody really worthwhile. He'd liked Edgar, but he'd had to kill him. Such a shame.

Johnny gazed out over the dance floor, watching the sparser-than-normal crowd of people who decided they'd rather dance than sleep tonight. The DJ currently selecting the songs had good taste, he'd noticed that the man had somehow managed to slip some classical beats into his play-list without people seeming to notice, nor care.

Currently though, the song playing was some fast-paced boppy thing sung by what sounded like teens, and it was only the DJ's ability to sneak in classical tunes onto a dance club play-list that saved him from becoming the Wall Monster's newest coat of blood. Well, that and the crowd. It would take too much effort killing everyone in here.

He'd arrived there, at the club, not long before sunset, and he imagined it was about midnight now – if Devi was even still in the city at this point, she would be asleep, so he didn't have to worry too much about running into her and having to find a victim while also avoiding her wrath. He really didn't want to get kicked again.

Though to be fair, he _had_ tried killing her.

He continued staring out at the crowd, only looking away when he realized his mouth was dry – when was the last time he'd had something to drink? Sometime this morning, he figured. He'd had a freezy around lunchtime. Standing, Johnny wandered over to the bar; this place would have to do for now. He'd have to get another freezy later, though.

"What'll it be?" The lady behind the counter asked him, her voice raised above the music so she could be heard.

"Whatever tastes best." Johnny replied, his voice raised to an equal volume so she could hear him as well. As she stirred up a drink that, at the moment, had a red coloration to it, Johnny's gaze slipped back to the crowd, his mind on Devi again. He remembered her say once that she'd gone to this place a few times, how, a few years ago, it was normally always filled with wannabe vampire geeks and goths. Johnny couldn't see any at the moment, though that might have just been the flashing lights hiding them from him.

He blinked when he heard a slight 'thunk' next to him, turning to the counter. Sitting next to him was a reddish drink with a lime wedged into it.(1) He smiled vaguely at it's color – perhaps it was cherry? Strawberry was nice too, but cherry was a better flavor by far.

Johnny took the drink in his hands, wandering over to his table as he sipped it. It tasted good. Really good. It had a tang to it he'd never tasted before, but whatever the tang was, it was giving him a warm feeling inside of him.

Eventually, his gaze over the crowd moved from searching for a victim, to general interest. What was it about these sorts of clubs that attracted even good people like Devi to enter, he wondered. Not the company, certainly. He took another gulp of his red drink, still watching the crowd. Perhaps... it was something one could only experience firsthand, only by participation? Another gulp of the red drink, and Johnny concluded that he'd try it – only tonight. And once he learned what it was that attracted people here like moths, he'd find somebody to feed to the Wall.

Drink in hand, Johnny stood, making his way towards the dance floor and ignoring the little voice in his head that was outraged at this turn of events.

0o0o0o0

She wasn't entirely sure what made her come out to the old club she used to regularly go to when she was younger – after the flaming vampire incident, she'd made a habit of avoiding it. But, she remembered, with Tenna's constant talking back at her house, she'd developed a bit of a headache, and contrary to what everyone said, darkness and silence only served to make _her_ headaches worse – noise gave her something else to concentrate on, making it go away faster.

So, she must have been going to her old club because she knew where it was, and because it was noisy. And because it was a club, she figured Johnny would be... well, definitely not there.

Nothing really caught her eye as she walked in – people dancing on the floor, people mulling about around the tables, a DJ playing some dance-sounding tune... But then she noticed something off about the dance floor. Rather than a crowd that didn't seem to acknowledge the existence of the other dancers, most of them seemed to be, while still dancing, emphasizing a man dancing excitedly in the center of the floor.

She could tell right off it was a man. He seemed to be wearing dark clothes, and for some reason, had his hair cut to look like a pair of alien antenna. Well, she'd seen stranger dress habits. She'd almost looked away from him when he turned around, still dancing. His face and upper torso became visible to her, and Devi froze in disbelief. No. No way. No _fucking_ way Johnny C was in a club, dancing it up with a crowd of sweaty, insomniatic teens. He hated these sorts of people, what on earth would – oh. _There_ was the reason. In the mans right hand, there was a very empty glass, traces of some red drink lingering at the bottom amid a pink-tinted lime slice.

Devi fought the urge to laugh as she leaned on the railing that separated the mildly elevated table area from one side of the dance floor. He'd managed to get himself drunk. Johnny-the-ever-paranoid had gotten himself _drunk_. That would be an interesting tale. _If_ he was coherent enough to tell it to her.

She sighed. If somebody didn't get the man off the dance floor before he sobered up, he'd go into a rage, this being even more likely if he was unable to recall the type of drink he'd ordered, or if he'd even ordered a drink in the first place.

She couldn't help but smile as she carefully walked across the floor, to the area Johnny had somehow managed to earn himself. He looked so happy. Joyous, enraptured in the sound the DJ was pouring out.

"Hey... Hey, Johnny." She poked him in an attempt to gain his attention, unafraid of this new, terribly happy, terribly _drunken_ Johnny.

"Huh?" He stopped dancing, but only for a moment. When he caught sight of her, he grinned broadly, grabbing her and pulling her into his very disorganized dance routine. "Devi!" He exclaimed happily "I'm so glad you're here! You must try this... this dr..." He held the glass out to her, evidently about to offer her some of the drink that had so blinded him to his own morals, but upon noticing how it was empty, paused. "Oh... Oh well. You're here, though Devi!" She almost giggled, greatly amused at his apathy towards dancing in the one place he hated above others.

"Johnny, you know you're-" But he cut her off.

"Dance with me, Devi!" He pulled her close to him as the DJ switched songs, muttering something about a request and couples. And she didn't fight the skinny maniac. Why even bother? The man was drunk, he was happy, and acting more nonviolent then she'd ever seen him before. And if she could guess, he probably would remain this way until his self-induced insomnia failed him.

"Johnny, you're drunk." She pointed out. Johnny scoffed.

"I-I'm not drunk, Devi – I don't drink alcohol." He muttered, still tightly gripping the empty glass. Devi raised an eyebrow, not entirely believing him. But rather than try her new boundaries, she let him be, allowing Johnny to dance with her while the DJ spun out a dance-y tune that Devi had never heard before.

It was once Johnny's balance started to vanish that Devi figured she should take the man somewhere else – she could tell that sleep wanted to take the maniac, and that he, as always, was fighting.

"Johnny...?" She muttered "We should get going, Johnny." He didn't say anything, but if his expression was anything to go by, he was disappointed. "You're not gonna want to fall asleep here, believe me. Come to think of it" She added "you're not gonna like waking up much, either, if that one glass of something was enough to waste you." At this point, Devi was doing more of the dancing then Johnny, so without another word to him, she slung one of his arms across her shoulder, gripping his other side with one of her hands, and leading him off the dance floor.

Devi was distinctly glad to have driven to the club – she definitely didn't want to have to walk back home with a drunk murderer in tow, especially at three in the morning. Downtown was a dangerous place to be this late at night. Or early in the morning, as the case may be. Either way, this city was especially dangerous, even while Johnny quelled most of the murderers by providing the death-toll single-handedly.

Devi paused in her trek to her car when Johnny began to hum something. He didn't seem to be singing, and might very well have been entirely unaware of doing it, but he was humming a tune she recognized. However, as she tried to start walking again, she sighed - Johnny wasn't trying to move; merely hung on her shoulder like a rag doll.

"Johnny, come on. You've gotta help me a little here. I can't do all the walking myself." Again, he said nothing, but she could feel him trying to walk, could feel his feet moving in an attempt to take some of his own weight. Granted, he was stumbling a lot, but he was trying.

"I don't... don't want to go h-home, Devi." Johnny stammered as she slipped him into the front passengers seat. "I don't want to listen to - to _them_." Devi gazed at him, one eye narrowed in curiosity. 'Them'? Who was 'them'? "They make so much noise, Devi... I -" He paused, gazing at her with alcohol-clouded eyes "I can't make them go away. They won't let me fight them." Devi sighed. He may have been in an alcohol-induced apathy towards his own morals, but she doubted he'd managed to down enough of the stuff to make him start raving. And he sounded truthful enough.

"That means you're gonna have to come to my house, you know." Devi told him, deciding to temporarily ignore the reasons he'd supplied for not wanting to return to his own house. "But if you come to my house I'm gonna have to trust you to not kill me later." Johnny gasped a little, staring at her as she hopped into the drivers seat and started the car up.

"W-why would I kill you? I love you, I wouldn't do that to you." Devi resisted turning to stare at him. She was driving, that kind of movement would be bad. "O-oh. Oh. That's why... Now, listen Devi, listen..." He gripped her shoulder, making Devi wish she wasn't driving. It would be difficult to hold a conversation with a drunk man while driving. "That wasn't.. .that wasn't me." Oh, joy. He was talking about their date. Calm, Devi. He's drunk, doesn't remember, or might not even have known in the first place, that that memory upsets you. "That was... not me. Well, it was me, but not _me_ me." Devi sighed. He was losing coherency by the minute, and she wished desperately for him to be quiet, because she couldn't figure out what he meant.

"You're being very confusing, Johnny." She told him, causing him to loosen his grip on her shoulder. "If it was you, but it _wasn't_ you, then what you're saying is you have multiple identities."

"YES!" Johnny shouted. "Wait... no, that's not it." He was silent for a moment, thinking. "It wasn't me... " Johnny started "It was... was the Wall Monster." He hummed a bit some more, before making a semi-pleased noise. "It... makes me kill people for blood. But that wasn't... I didn't want to kill you for that!" He exclaimed. "I wanted to keep you; I wanted to keep your beauty forever." He let go of her shoulder, shrinking back into his own seat. "Roses wither, Devi. Those in _my_ garden; twice as quick as others. I didn't _want_ my rose to wither... So I decided to preserve it before it had the chance."

"Johnny..." Devi sighed, about to speak. But Johnny was off again, lucid moment gone, now singing along to the tune in his head again. And then she recognized it. Matchbox 20. Unwell. He was singing the first two lines of the chorus, over and over;

'I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell; I know, right now you can't tell...'

"Johnny." She said firmly, catching his attention. He stopped his out-of-character humming, turning to look at her. "You tried to kill me – well-meaning or not, killing doesn't solve everything. You can't just stick a knife in something and declare it fixed. And in something like a relationship... Johnny, love _is_ taking risks. You told me you were messed up, and despite all the _risks_ of trying to pursue a relationship with a person like that, I decided you were worth it. Then you tried to _kill_ me, and... and..." Devi broke off, unsure of where to go next in her rant. Johnny, robbed entirely of his normal demeanor by whatever the hell he'd downed at the club, sat quietly, watching her.

"I did it because I loved you..." She heard him mutter. Again, Devi sighed, but decided not to further the subject as she pulled into the parking lot of her apartment building. She didn't say anything to the still-mostly-drunk maniac, once more helping him stand as she practically dragged him up the stairs to her apartment, remembering that she'd left Tenna a key, so the girl might be inside.

A twist of the doorknob told Devi the lock was closed, and upon fishing her keys out of her pocket with one hand, slowly flipped through the keys to the one that belonged to her door, opening it and immediately pausing. There were people in her apartment. Tenna, and some girl she didn't recognize.

She shut and locked her door before speaking.

"Uhm... Tenna? Who the _fuck_ is this?" She asked the dark-skinned girl. "No offense." She told the mystery girl.

"None taken." The girl responded.

"Devi, you're back _already_?" Tenna sounded surprised. "You leave for about fifteen minutes and come back with some _guy_ hanging off your arm?" She was grinning mischievously, obvious thinking that Johnny was there for some naughty reason. Devi rolled her eyes, gripping Johnny a little tighter as he decided to stop actively trying to stand, humming the tune to that single lyric again.

"He's -" But the mystery girl cut her off.

"OH _FUCK_!" The girl reeled backwards, grabbing a nearby table lamp and pulling it in front of her as a weapon, subsequently jerking it's plug from the socket. Tenna took a half-step away from the girl, and Devi couldn't help but move back _several_ steps. What on earth was going on? "What the _fuck_ is _he_ doing here?" Devi laughed lightly, jerking Johnny a little to try and get him to stand. Ah, she understood now. This girl must have been abducted by Johnny at some point.

"Hi, nice to meet a fellow survivor of Mr. Can't-Hold-His-Liquor, here." She said, gesturing Johnny by jostling him slightly. Johnny grunted unhappily, evidently not pleased at the treatment, but not caring nearly enough to do anything about it. Devi held out a hand. "I'm Devi D, you?"

Slowly, the mystery girl lowered the lamp as she realized that Johnny was in no condition to even properly _think_ of attacking any of the people in the room. She took Devi's hand and shook it, her gaze never leaving Johnny, who still hung off Devi's shoulder.

"Tess. Escaped not-really victim of _that_ guy." Devi raised an eyebrow.

"You were a 'not-really' victim?" Tess nodded.

"He kidnapped me and my boyfriend at the time, a guy named Dillon, cause Dillon kept kicking the back of his seat during a movie at The Camera. Strange thing is, he tortured Dillon, but left me entirely alone." Tess paused, taking on a thinking look. "I was actually pretty happy to see that Tentacle demon tear Dillon to bits. It scared the shit outta me, but I was happy to see him go." Something flashed in Tess's eyes, and she jerked back again. "How the _fuck_ is he _alive_?" Devi blinked, lost again.

"What do you mean?"

"He _died_! I _saw_ him die! He was lying in a pool of his own blood with a _bullet-hole_ through his _brain_!" She stepped close to Johnny and poked his forehead, making the man finally start to support his own weight as he raised his head to look at Tess. "What the fuck _are_ you, huh? Gunshot wound in your brain; but you manage to rant off an entire speech and do it _coherently_, and then show up more-or-less perfectly healthy a few months later?" Johnny blinked at her, silent for a few moments before speaking.

"You!" He exclaimed, smiling slightly. "You were the girl who liked my boots! I'm sorry, I don't remember where I got them..." He turned to Devi. "Hey, do we have spaghettios?" Devi bit back a laugh.

"Sorry." She said. "Johnny's... out of commission." Tenna, now sitting, raised an eyebrow, still grinning.

"Did you do it at the club?"

"No!" Devi told the dark-skinned girl. "I entered the club, _this_ idiot was on the dance floor with some kind of red, alcoholic drink in his hands. He made me dance with him for a bit before deciding he didn't wanna bother with standing anymore." She began walking to her room. "I took him here because I don't want him to sober up at the club, because then the city would be down a club and several dozen people." Tess eyed the maniac as Devi half-dragged him to the bedroom.

"So it's better for him to wake up in _your house_ and get really pissed off?" Devi paused. Tess had a point, what was bringing him _here_ doing, other than giving him direct access to her?

"I'll... figure something out." Devi said. "Now, no offense meant to either of you, but it _is_ 3:30 in the morning – please go home, or to Tenna's place." Tess chuckled.

"Sure thing. I'd feel better with him out of immediate range anyway, drunk or not." She grabbed Tenna's arm, dragging the objecting girl out of the apartment as she wished Devi good luck.

Devi, now alone, unceremoniously layed Johnny in the bed, pulling the covers over him as he lay still, sleep taking him over. However, before leaving him to himself, she grabbed two Advil and a glass of water from her kitchen, placing them on the bedside dresser alongside a note telling him where he was.

She didn't expect him to wake up and be calm – he didn't like sleep much, last time she'd checked, and that he'd be waking with a hangover wouldn't help his mood much. So, in preparation for an angry maniac, she flipped her bedroom doorknob around, the lock side facing out, and locked it. She'd let him out the next morning, certainly, but only after he calmed down. Because he'd be angry when he awoke, no doubt about it.

And for some reason, she found herself hoping vaguely that he'd remember tonight.

* * *

(1) – This is actually the description of a daiquiri my mum ordered at Montana's once – though for story reasons I'm not specifying the type of drink Johnny actually receives.


End file.
